


holding hands at the river styx

by aura (shadowymagix)



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-21
Updated: 2013-09-21
Packaged: 2017-12-27 04:47:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/974508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowymagix/pseuds/aura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ancient Greece AU.</p><p>Ryoga has to leave with his clan of water nymphs, but he promises Yuma he'll be back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	holding hands at the river styx

**Author's Note:**

> written for zexal au meme  
> do not even look at me this hurt me as much as it will hurt you i cried tears of blood

“ _Shaaku_!  _Shaaku_!”

Yuma climbs over the tall rocks obscuring his view of the waterfall and hisses in pain as something sharp digs into him. He huffs and pulls himself over, landing on the other side with a crack and a loud groan. He nurses his dislocated shoulder for a moment, before someone grabs his arm and pushes the bone back into place with another crack. Yuma yelps in surprise and pain.

“You idiot, I keep telling you there’s an actual entrance on the other side,” Ryoga says with a disappointed and worried frown. He reaches out to pull Yuma from the ground and Yuma grins as he takes his arm and pulls Ryoga down with him. “ _Oy_ —!”

“The other side is too far a walk!” Yuma whines. “It’s faster this way!”

Ryoga groans and sighs, knows it’s pointless to get up because Yuma will pull him down again, so he rolls over with his back facing the other. “You get yourself hurt every time.”

“But you’re here to fix it!” Yuma laughs and lies down next to him with his eyes on the clouds. Ryoga grunts something unintelligible and Yuma smiles brighter.

They spend an hour like that, Ryoga facing away and Yuma facing the sky, content to only know that the other is there and that the other is breathing.

Ryoga squeezes his eyes shut for a moment and rolls over onto his back. “Yuma.”

“Yeah?” he turns his head.

“I won’t… always be here to fix it.”

There’s a dash of panic in Yuma’s eyes, and Ryoga reaches out, but it’s gone as soon as it came, and he wonders if he only imagined it.

“What are you talking about, Shaaku?” Yuma is all smiles and laughter as he emphasizes Ryoga’s nickname. “Of course you will! Unless you’re sick. Are you sick?”

Before Ryoga can even answer, Yuma shoots up and fusses over him like a mother hen, red eyes wide with worry. He is sure that Yuma can feel the heat in his cheeks as the other’s palm grazes it slightly. Ryoga closes his eyes again and shoves Yuma’s fussy hands away.

“I’m not sick,” he scowls as Yuma only laughs, sticks his tongue out at him, and lets the muscles on his face loosen from relief.

“Can water nymphs even get sick?” Yuma asks offhandedly with a puzzled expression.

“No, so stop dwelling on it,” he huffs, but his face softens and he sighs again because  _dammit, how he is supposed to say_ —

“So you’ll always be here, yeah!”

“Yuma,” his voice is soft, grim, almost saddened but Ryoga holds it in. “I’m not going to be here tomorrow.”

“Well it’s fine to miss  _one_  day—”

“ _Yuma_ ,” he says louder. He grits his teeth and grabs the other’s shoulders. “I’m leaving. My tribe is leaving. We have to migrate. I won’t be here tomorrow, or ever.”

And Yuma goes shock still, and Ryoga wants to say _I’m sorry, I’m so sorry_ but he knows it won’t soften the blow. So he just exhales, inhales, exhales, and lets his hands slide slowly off of the other’s shoulders.

“You’re joking, right?” Yuma says softly, and his eyes don’t look at Ryoga’s, and he  _sits_. “Your tribe has been here for almost a century now! You can’t just—”

“I’m  _leaving_.”

He sits there for a minute that to Ryoga feels like an eternity, but just as the purple haired teenager is about to reach out again, some small spark ignites in Yuma’s eyes and he jumps up.

“Well, that’s fine!” he says, and Ryoga thinks that he’s just trying to convince himself, but Yuma pulls him up, and for a moment he’s disoriented. “If tomorrow is when you leave, then we’ll make the rest of the day worthwhile!”

Ryoga raises an eyebrow and dusts off his tunic. “Worthwhile?”

“Yeah!” Yuma grabs his wrist, and tugs him in the direction of the waterfall. “Teach me how to swim! I want to learn!”

“Idiot, I can’t teach you how to swim, I do it subconsciously,” Ryoga huffs, pulls his wrist from Yuma’s grasp. “I don’t even touch the water. I meld with it.”

“Bleeh!” Yuma pouts and sticks his tongue out again. Ryoga grabs it with his index and middle finger. “ _Thaawku_!!”

“Stop sticking your tongue out,” Ryoga scolds with a hint of a smirk. “You’re just making a target of yourself.”

Ryoga lets go and Yuma quickly pulls his tongue back into his mouth. “You’re no fun!” he whines, but an idea pops into his head then, and he grins, and Ryoga isn’t sure whether he should be worried or not. “Want to play a game?”

“What now?”

Yuma sticks his tongue out in a mocking manner, and quickly takes off. “Catch me if you can!”

“ _Oy_ , what did I say about putting your tongue out!” Ryoga shouts as he chases after the black and red haired boy in annoyance. “Yuma…!”

“Nananana na na!”

They spend the rest of the day playing. Ryoga tackles Yuma into the river, wherein Yuma almost drowns, and Ryoga almost floods the entire forest in an attempt to get the other out. Yuma laughs it off as Ryoga mumbles something resembling an apology and he pushes him to the ground to playfight.

When the sun sets, and the stars come out, and Yuma and Ryoga are out of breath, and neither of them want to get up from their position on the ground ever again: they’re smiling. Yuma rolls over, prods Ryoga, who turns his head to look at the other tiredly.

“Hey,” Yuma starts, and then stops with a frown, as he’s trying to figure out what to say. “Since you’re… going and all, well, I…”

“Yuma?”

“Will you ever come back?” Yuma blurts out quickly, and the hope in his eyes makes Ryoga want to wrap his arms around the other and never let go. “Ever?”

“I…” he wets his lips nervously, unsure of how to respond, and Yuma takes his hand and intertwines their fingers. “Yuma…”

“I mean… it doesn’t have to be soon,” he says in a low voice with his eyes to the ground. “Maybe in a few years? I—I’ll always be here. I’ll wait for you!”

“Yuma, I can’t leave my tribe,” Ryoga slowly starts, and his blue eyes soften. The grip Yuma has on his hand loosens, but Ryoga quickly fills in the needed strength with his own. “I…”

They sit there for a while, and Yuma doesn’t lose the spark of hope in his eyes even as Ryoga doesn’t want to look at him, doesn’t want to promise something that he may not be able to keep.

He squeezes his eyes shut and exhales. “I can’t promise in a few years, but…  _someday_ , Yuma.”

“Someday I’ll come back for you.”

* * *

For Yuma, the years pass in a slow trudge. He grows slowly from a pre-adolescent child to a teenager to an adult, all the while holding onto a hope of meeting Ryoga again, of spending time with him in the afternoon sun, of laughter and playful insults thrown so carelessly like their time into the wind.

He holds onto that hope even as three years pass, as five years, ten years float away. He holds onto that hope as he climbs over the rock face everyday, as he contemplates landing in such a way that would dislocate his shoulder because  _Ryoga will fix it_. He lies in their spot on the grass, traces the constellations in the sky, and  _look Ryoga, it’s Benetnash, your birth star_.

In the summer of the tenth year, his country calls for soldiers. Yuma is drafted because he’s young and strong, and he will surely be an asset to the army. He sews a note into the dirt, tells Ryoga to wait, he’ll be back,  _he promises_.

* * *

“Someone get the sails!”

Yuma breaks into a mad sprint towards the mast of the ship, and immediately latches onto the pillar to climb upwards. He’s the fastest climber they have, and he quickly pulls the rope around the sails to close them against the wind. There’s a loud splash as the anchor is dropped, and Yuma almost loses his balance as the ship sways uncontrollably from the force of the waves.

Something in the distance emits a loud boom, and suddenly the mast is on fire. Yuma hisses as the flames almost lick his hand, and he quickly scales to the bottom to get away.

“Yuma! Grab a bucket and douse the flames!” one of his fellow soldiers cries out.

“The rain will put it out! One measly bucket won’t do anything!” he shouts back against the heavy downpour. He picks up his spear and shield and quickly runs over to help turn the wheel as their rival ship crashes against them.

“Enemy engaging! Ready your weapons!” his commander shouts. Yuma tries in a futile effort to wipe the water from his eyes, but as soon as his hand leaves his face, new water falls to replace it. “Do not let them on board!”

It’s too late for that, Yuma thinks, as he sees the other ship crash against them again and one of the crew members lasso their bowsprit. He holds his spear tightly against him, before he charges in to intercept the enemy.

Just as he’s about to knock the first one off deck, a loud screech pierces the air. Everyone immediately covers their ears as another screech resounds. The waves suddenly grow merciless, and Yuma is thrown around deck like a ragdoll.

“They got the sirens with them!” someone cries out in fear.

The first one makes itself known as she jumps out of the water and grabs a soldier, only to pull him under. His screams become bubbles and frantic gasps for air as he’s dragged down into the ocean, weighed down by his own armor and her strength.

More of them jump out of the water, and they attack whichever man they can get their claws on: whether it was friend or foe. There’s a large cry for both ships to disengage as someone burns the rope holding the two together.

Yuma huddles behind a pile of overturned barrels, his breath still and his eyes wide with panic. He watches as his fellow soldiers are dragged under one by one, as the commander screams for help from Zeus, from Poseidon, from  _anybody, please, help_. He says a prayer as well, hoping to anybody out there that he could make it through this.

As another soldier is dragged down, Yuma’s breath catches in his throat.

Those aren’t sirens.

 _Those are water nymphs_.

He knocks over a barrel in surprise, and mistakenly stands up as a flash of memories hit him. Something— _someone_ —grabs him from behind, and he screams as he’s dragged over deck and into the water.

Yuma’s suddenly grateful that he learned how to swim.  _Ryoga would be proud_ , he’d thought at the time.  _We can swim together now._

He surfaces and drinks in a large gulp of air. The water nymph trying to drag him down screeches loudly in his ear, but Yuma ignores it and tries to shimmy out of his armor. He’s pulled under again within seconds, but he gets off his plate skirt and boots, and surfaces once more.

Yuma rip the arms around his neck off of him and shoves the water nymph away. He bares his teeth and snarls, and grabs a piece of floating wreckage from the ship to float on. When he turns around to face the nymph again, it’s gone. He twists his head around to search the waters, but there is no sign of them.

“Haaaah…!” Yuma gasps as something pierces through his stomach, and he loses his grip on the floating plank. He slowly bleeds into the ocean as he sinks.

Something swims in front of his vision—the water nymph come to inspect their kill.

He smiles, then. A smile from a time he long thought gone.

“ _Shaaku_ ,” he mouths.

Terrified blue eyes greet him. His purple hair floats around his head like a halo, and Yuma notices the edges. Ryoga has edges. There are no more curved lines to signal childhood.

“Yuma!” Ryoga screams with terror and panic. “What have I done—?!”

“ _Shaaku_ ,” Yuma mouths again. His eyes are shining. “You kept your promise.”

“This isn’t the time for that, you idiot!”

Ryoga screams into the water, a sound that seems to cause the waves to stop rolling with such ferocity, a sound that causes the skies to open with sunlight, a sound that causes Yuma to reach out and pull Ryoga into an embrace.

“Thanks, for coming back,” Yuma keeps mouthing. “I’m sorry we couldn’t play together again.”

“No, no, no, stop opening your mouth!” Ryoga screams. He pulls out of the embrace, grabs Yuma by the wrist and starts swimming upwards.

“I’m so glad… you came back…”

“We’re almost there, hang on—!”

“Thank you… Ryoga.”

And as Yuma smiles, the water wraps around him like a long lost lover, slowly but gently pulling him into its depths, and depositing his corpse on its white sand. Ryoga doesn't cry,  _can't_  cry, but he wraps his arms around his childhood friend and _stays_.

(Stays until he can't function anymore, stays until his body cries for nourishment, stays until he can feel the warmth of Yuma's body again and he _knows_ \--

\--Yuma takes his hand and walks with him to the River Styx.)


End file.
